


Household Projects

by Farasha



Category: Young Wizards - Duane
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-14
Updated: 2007-10-14
Packaged: 2017-10-03 16:35:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Farasha/pseuds/Farasha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just another day at the local Advisories' place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Household Projects

It wasn't as if this didn't happen often, Tom reflected absently. His eyes adjusted quickly to the now-glowing light of his Manual pages, and he turned the page calmly. "Carl, we could just call an electrician."

The string of unflattering language he got was answer enough, and a moment later Carl kicked his way through the living room, tripping over the pile of Tom's Manual volumes and cursing _louder,_ and the cursing was joined by Annie and Monty's howling as he slammed out of the back door.

Tom put aside his reading – studying vocabulary – in favor of the stove and the tea kettle. It was almost December, and Carl would be freezing by the time he finished figuring out which circuit breaker was the kitchen's, since they never had gotten around to labeling them.

It was a good thing the stove was gas. Especially when the lights in the kitchen went out suddenly. The door opened, and Tom called, "That was the kitchen," and he heard a Carl slam the door with more force than was probably necessary. But it was cold, and Carl had been trying to get the new dispose-all wired for two days now, and it was the third time he'd had to reset the breaker.

The kettle began to whistle, and a few moments later the lights came back on in the living room, and Carl slammed back into the house and the kitchen.

Tom caught his wrist as he started to go past. "I made water for hot chocolate."

Carl seemed to deflate. "We have real cocoa? Not the instant crap?"

"I bought some the other day. We'll call an electrician tomorrow, all right?"

"I can do it," Carl insisted stubbornly, rooting around in the pantry. "I'm almost there."

"Carl, if you knock out the breaker one more time you're going to give yourself a coronary cursing about it."

"Nah, I left a spell tag on it this time," Carl said. "Come on, I'll have it up by tomorrow. I promise. It'll be running by noon."

"If it's not, I'll call Kit over to make it talk to the sink," Tom warned. "That's _his_ specialty, after all."

Carl wrinkled his nose. "I can get it. Kit doesn't need to come and fix our sink. He's got enough to do on his own, between school and his wizardry-"

"-and hormones, and the way him and Nita tiptoe around each other lately," Tom finished. He took the hot chocolate from Carl and scooped an even amount into both the mugs he had set out, pouring the boiling water over it.

"They've been better, since their last errantry," Carl said. "I think Darryl was good for them. Made them see what idiots they've been about each other."

Tom rolled his eyes, blowing on his chocolate. "You're still bound and determined to set the two of them up-"

"Nah, I've given up." Carl sat down at the kitchen table wearily. "I'm beginning to agree with you, that their relationship should probably stay where it's always been. They would kick each other to the moon more often than they already do, otherwise."

"What I was worried about," Tom said, staring half at Carl and half at the wall, "was Nita. She wasn't…"

Carl shook his head. "Nita will be fine. She's fine _now,_ she just needed to find her feet again."

Tom smiled a little. "Reminds me of someone else I know, not too many years ago," he said.

"That's not a fair comparison!" Carl protested, his moustache twitching as he tried to keep from smiling. "Nita was only questioning her wizardry and herself and her life, but you put my sexuality on the line!"

"Because we all know that Carl Romeo being secure in his manhood is more important than the Powers that Be," Tom said, rolling his eyes.

"You're damn right it is!" Carl said. "We can't all be like you."

"There's a couch with your name on it," Tom said, "unless you clarify what you meant by that right now."

"You know what I meant," Carl said. "Just effeminate enough to make people look at you twice but just masculine enough to convince them they're wrong, and on top of it willing and able to quote Shakespeare at the drop of a hat-"

"'The first thing we do, we'll kill all the lawyers?'" Tom asked innocently.

"You know what I mean."

"Oh, you mean –  
_Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?  
Deny thy father and refuse thy name-_"

"Not that part I didn't," Carl said.

"Then you meant –  
_Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near the day:  
It was the nightingale, and not the lark,  
That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear;  
Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree:  
Believe me, love, it was the nightingale._"

"And then I do the part about the other bird," Carl said. He sipped his hot chocolate and ignored the small sputter Tom made into his.

"The part about the other bird? Some Romeo you make."

Carl rolled his eyes. "Hey, you're the one that goes in for that Shakespeare stuff. I wouldn't know the lines if you hit me over the head with them."

"And yet you can memorize a claudication at the drop of a hat-"

"A claudication is different! We need _those._ The last thing you need is for me to quote Shakespeare at you."

Tom smiled a little. "You just can't understand the delicate nuances behind-"

"Understand delicate nuances! She doesn't want Romeo to leave, because when he does he'll be banished, so she's trying to convince him it isn't morning. And I say –  
_It was the lark, the herald of the morn,  
No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks  
Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east:  
Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day  
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.  
I must be gone and live, or stay and die._"

"Now I remember why we don't quote Shakespeare at each other," Tom said thoughtfully. Carl made a small questioning noise, and Tom continued, "Romeo's part sounds _idiotic_ in a Brooklyn accent."

Carl made a face at him. "I'm going to get back to work on that dispose-all now," he said. "And when I get done, then you can make fun of my accent all you want, you crazy Cali bastard."

"Someone's got to be," Tom said peaceably. He grinned and hefted his Manual. "So you're going to leave me to studying, again, the same thing I've been doing for two days – and when you get done with the dispose-all, you'll be so worn out that you'll go straight to sleep-"

Carl stood suddenly, catching Tom slightly by surprise and catching his lips in a firm kiss. _I'm not that old,_ he said, amused. _You want energy? I can do that._

Tom set his chocolate down carefully, resting his hands on Carl's hips. _You have a dirty mind, lover. I was merely suggesting that you were wearing yourself out._ But it was difficult, if not impossible to lie like this, mind-to-mind and especially connected body-to-body; when wizards got physical, their minds tended to bleed together.

Carl finally pulled away, his eyes a little darkened with a hint of what was to come. "Go study your vocabulary. I'll have this finished by tonight, and tomorrow we can quote Shakespeare at each other all day long."

"If you're going to start pontificating at length, comparing me to the sun or something like that-"

"When do I ever pontificate? Go study." Carl laid back down on the floor and stuck his head under the sink, leaving Tom to settle back in his chair with his Manual.

"_But soft! What light from yonder-_"

"There's still a couch with your name on it."


End file.
